My batteries are dead,
and I can't hear the voices of my head.
The internal clock is ticking down
And I was never anointed my crown.
It's only a matter of time
before I lose this rhyme,
and my body is a throw-away toy
to never bring another joy.
My batteries are dead,
there's no more tears to shed.
My voice is going out
yet have many words to spout.
My limbs are going numb
Blood rushing to my ears like a drum.
My fingertips going ice-cold
And my light fading from gold.
My batteries are dead
And now I see fiery red.
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories and Poems
Short StoryThese are all written by me, nothing in this book will be by someone else. Please if you do intend to use any of these to at least let me know and to not claim these as your own. //Warning: Some content deals with mental disorders, depressing theme...
